Umarete Yokatta

BY : Lil'MissWest
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 572
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super/etc.belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.

Piccolo Daimoah Jr sighed.

His hip still hurt, as it always did the mornings after. He had no idea that married life could be so… exhausting. Being a husband and lover turned out to be much more physically taxing than any rigorous training he’s ever endured as a student or mentor. But perhaps that was only due to the fact that they overdid certain aspects… He never had the heart to tell Gohan to slow down just to give him a chance to recover. Well, actually, he did. But in the end, after Gohan wooed and begged, his heart (which happened to beat for no other) would predictably be swayed. It felt almost borderline cruel to deny the boy what he wanted. Indeed, his love for Gohan, was both his greatest strength and weakness. That, and truthfully, in spite of everything, no part of him was legitimately complaining about their arrangement. Even now, as he adjusted his ailing posterior upon the office chair trying to relieve some of the persistent soreness, he knew he had no regrets.

It was truly frightening how comfortable in this new dimension of chaos he’s become.

Ever since he got a taste of it first-hand, it was as though his system was being overtaken by an unknown side of him that had been awakened; slowly but surely being infected by that wild, untamed energy in the form of Gohan’s possessive and tangible desire. It was unlike anything he’s ever experienced, and yet not at all foreign—a primordial predisposition from within him merely uncapped and allowed to surge forth like an upwelling of the most liberating madness; his very own will to be consumed by it was rewriting his very nature and commandeering his body, leaving him in a latent feverish state—of constant buzzing, frenzied want.

Gohan was just as afflicted but his want was on the more volcanic range of the spectrum. There were phases to it, like the moon and the tides. And going by experience, it was most active around the time of Tulip’s conception; when they were gripped by the urge to produce offspring. His mate, though more predatory by design, struggled more fiercely against his very nature, vacillating in and out of control over his primal need. Vegeta did mention that extremely rare as it was, it did occur. For a Saiyajin to channel their bloodlust to a desired mate instead of a strong opponent in battle. But it was not only so rare that it was almost unheard of—but also exceedingly dangerous if that Saiyajin singled one –and only one- mate out of unparalleled affection. The Saiyajins insatiable predisposition to fight was but one common form their abominable energy took, but when those two seemingly opposite avenues of urges collided, the very purpose of seeking out the strongest united with the purpose of fulfilling what nature designed all living creatures to do. Their daughter was healthy, living, breathing evidence that they were not only compatible but very successful at it. Thanks to his highly-advanced Pokopen abilities, Tulip was already proving to be the next most powerful of evolutionary hybrids.

Ever since they returned to Earth from their unexpected sojourn on Asteroid E2, Gohan had been faithfully devoted to impregnating his mate, clearly hell-bent on making up for all the times he neglected to keep his surly Namek “wife” pumped full of his essence…

Stop. Piccolo chided himself, shuddering at the provocative imagery his school of thought evoked.

He shook his head to clear it, unconsciously shifting in his seat which caused him to wince as tendrils of agony shot up from his oh-so-very tender rear; everything from his waist down felt raw and hyper-sensitive. If not for his advanced healing powers as a hybrid Super Namek, he would never have been able to survive their “nightly activities” that stretched until sunrise; and with literally just a wink of sleep, spent what remained of the ungodly mornings getting ready for work for the day.

That morning, Gohan still managed to squeeze in a “quick session” by the front door before they stepped out to head for the university-- yes, it was that fresh. He could still feel the angry kisses on his neck, the teeth scraping his antennae, and the frisky tongue repeatedly probing and stroking deep within the walls of his sensitive throat.

Piccolo shivered again, adjusting his muffler, feeling silly that he had to keep the ridiculous thing on indoors and even sillier that he had to lie about feeling cold when his co-workers from their interplanetary faculty division noticed it. He couldn’t very well tell them that the soft fabric soothed the chilled gooseflesh that prickled his neck whenever his body remembered the sensual abuse and made him ache for the sweet torture. Of course, its primary purpose was to shield the recent trophies of his most private adventures from prying eyes; marks that he still hadn’t the time nor energy to heal.

The Namek sucked in a timed breath, once again nagging himself to focus on his task at hand. He felt aghast; he has never had this much trouble concentrating before!

A five-minute meditation later, he was beginning to finally settle into a workflow when suddenly, the entrance to his office cubicle is barred by none other than--

“Gohan…?!”

His ever loving husband.

“We need to talk.”

Instantly, Piccolo felt his loins tighten. Normally, he would say ‘no’. Correction: he needed to say no. They agreed not to interact intimately in their mutual workplace since their current relationship in their true identities was still unknown to the general public. It was easy enough since they were from different departments even if within the same university, but if they “talked” too often, other people will start to do the same…

The “no” that had been readying itself to launch off his tongue slid back down his throat. Gohan was giving him “the look”. A look that made him feel naked and thirsty all at once. Oh well, he supposed it was just something work-related, right? Gohan knew better than to risk blowing their cover; or so, that’s what Piccolo naïvely thought…

The moment his buttocks lifted off the chair, his arm was grabbed and to Piccolo’s sheer bewilderment—the very next second, they were in their secret mountain home, inside their bedroom, at the very foot of their waiting bed… Piccolo couldn’t really say he was surprised. Be that as it may, he was still inevitably--spectacularly overwhelmed. (And alright, fine. Maybe a *tad* excited.)

Gohan, on the other hand, was already on tugging at his necktie, tussling with the buttons of his shirt, and unfastening his belt, and so on- with a curious combination of focus and impatience. Piccolo meanwhile, found himself just watching his partner do all that, his mind still hadn’t quite caught up with them and was still teleporting to where they were— or possibly lost somewhere in time and space for the time being. Piccolo is then hastily pushed onto the bed, already completely striped of all his upper garments.

“Gohan! Ack!”

“Hurry, Piccolo-san! We only have twenty-five minutes left of lunch break. Do you know how much paperwork I rushed just for this extra twenty-five minutes?!

“This is what you meant by ‘talk’?!”

Gohan didn’t acknowledge what he likely assumed was a rhetorical question. Instead, he leaned in and sat on his husband’s now bare thighs, dilated pupils boring into shocked blue orbs. Piccolo’s breath hitched as he felt his partner already “warming-him-up” down there.

“Nngh, d-did you even- ahh, w-wash your hands?”

The half-breed laughed (even if Piccolo wasn't trying to be funny). 

“H-have you even had lunch already??” The Namek half-groaned-half hissed, his breath coming out in sharp pants now.

“This is my lunch,” Gohan chimed in cheerily. “Itadakimasu!” Chuckling some more as he got but a low growl in response.

After some carefully placed lip-presses to the face and ears of his squirming Namek, the half-breed trailed wet smacks down his chest, torso, and navel; fingers unrelenting in its ministrations. Reaching his husband’s pelvic area, he licked the soft, smooth mound generously before letting his tongue finally join his fingers in stimulating the Namek’s core, which was responding fantastically to the hurried courtship, already sopping wet and anticipating of its lover.

“Gods, you smell so divine, Piccolo-san…!”

“Nnngghh!” The Namek nearly choked on his saliva as he was engulfed whole and slobbered with gusto. It did feel like his lover was actually trying to eat him… He was being sucked -and fast- into that inebriated state of dulled arousal, momentarily distracted when Gohan rather aggressively wrestled with his slacks which were still clinging stubbornly to his ankles.

“D-don’t rip it!”

“Sorry, love!”

Piccolo made magic look easy but even a simple spell like conjuring clothes was a delicate process that required a significant amount of life energy. Said life energy or “Ki” was something sex always drained him of, and he usually didn’t have enough sense or power left in him after their avid “sessions”.

“Magic it off, hurry, please?” came his demi-Saiyajin lover’s urgent plea.

Piccolo’s face collected into a pout but nevertheless, he obliged, knowing he’d never win this battle; giving in was always the more beneficial option (for both of them)… At least his lover still had the propriety to say ‘please’.

Gohan pressed Piccolo’s legs apart and was all over him all at once: hands kneading, tongue poking and twirling, lips smacking, and teeth scraping- biting just enough to make his husband groan. Gohan eventually let his hands do all the work as his eyes feasted on his Namekian lover’s face--a breath-taking picture of pained pleasure and delightfully purple-scorched cheeks; ears indulging greedily in the reticent grunts and sobs that were being forced from parted shiny purplish-green lips. Fingers grazed teasingly over his Namekian mate’s tight abdomen, tracing patterns up and down elegantly muscled arms; strong calloused hands fondled heaving pectoral muscles, and hungry lips soon slid over one erect antennae to another, sucking on it fervently and liberally coating the sensitive organ with his own hot fluids. All the while, his hardness had been rimming the quivering and thoroughly moist entrance to that heavenly body.

The half-breed was an unmerciful lover.

“Ungghh, aaahh, G-G-Gohaannn! N-No more…!”

Already, Piccolo’s vision was burning white at the edges. His legs spread itself wider of its own accord, desperately inviting his lover to plunder—and fast; the sounds being elicited from him steadily increasing in volume and intensity.

“Gods, Piccolo-san! I need you so much right now!”

“Y-you don’t- nngg- say?! Nnnn-aauuuhh!” Piccolo’s weak sneer turned into a whimper as Gohan returned abruptly to his now swollen node, stroking with both fingers and soon lightly biting it before nudging it repeatedly with his tongue.

“Ahh, G-Gohan!!! P-please, I c-can’t—anymo-uuhhh!”

Gohan takes his time sucking on Piccolo’s fast-blossoming male organ until it was a solid shaft proudly projected out in the open, stopping only right before he could ejaculate, then lifting his head to meet dazed blue orbs from between trembling thighs.

“Nnn!” Piccolo bit back a gasp as he watched and felt Gohan’s finger dip into his throbbing opening and steadily sink all the way in, remaining inside him for a few torturously teasing moments… before gently extracting itself. He blushed furiously as the boy stared entranced at the said finger which was now dribbling with copious amounts of his natural lubrication.

“I think you’re ready now,” Gohan breathed out, cheeks heavily tinted, an elusive smile playing at the corner of shiny red lips. Gently, he inched up to kiss his flustered Namek’s nose and murmur endearments as he positioned himself to take his lover.

After spending what Piccolo considered a little bit too much time turning on all his switches (if there was anything Gohan loved more than the main event, it was duteous foreplay), finally, the entire bulbous tip of his lover’s massive length forced its way through and sheathed itself inside him in one firm push. A curse or two slips from his lips as his hips buck and shake involuntarily. Even after countless times, his lover’s girth never got any less formidable.

Gohan winced, pausing for a couple of breaths to keep from finishing right then and there as he felt his husband’s delicious resistance crushing down all around him; waiting for his beloved to adjust. Mindless grunts, groans, and incoherent fragments of each other’s name filled the spaces between them, as with practised timing, Gohan worked his fingers around Piccolo’s own pulsating –now fully erect- length and stroked it, gently at first, while building his penetration into rhythmic thrusts. By the time he had buried himself all the way to the hilt, they were gasping for breath, bodies steaming and glazed in sweat.

"You promised me we could have another baby…" Gohan susurrated in the Namek's ear.

When Piccolo didn't offer any reply, he pulled out and swiftly pushed in again, slamming directly into the Namek's sweet spot, making the said Namek's eyes scrunch closed and his mouth open in a breathless quivering gasp.

"Let me know if you're pregnant yet," Gohan rasped, then repeated his actions.

This time, a long-drawn guttural moan is wrenched from his beloved; and he decided that he wanted to hear it again. And again. Much louder. Preferably until Piccolo was begging him -in that sexy bedroom voice of his- to stop. But of course, he wouldn’t.

Without significant pause this time, Gohan pulled out and pushed in, working up a pace until he was pistoning into his lover's body with ruthless speed and force. And so far, his mate was delivering superbly.

Piccolo no longer remembered how to form words; his acute ears no longer heard the loud needy moans that left his lips. All he heard was his flesh being penetrated and expanded; all he knew was the teeth-chattering friction and the feeling of being filled to satisfaction--over and over again. Stars danced beneath the veil of his eyelids, each tiny spark got bigger and brighter as his lover drove him to the brink of mind-numbing euphoric release.

Lustrous green flames blazed in Gohan’s eyes as it vigilantly watched his Namek’s face. Talons digging more securely into his back told him that Piccolo was very near, which made him drive harder and deeper and faster, ascending into Super Saiyajin at the last moment, making Piccolo howl at the burst of pain from the added girth, length, and power his body was being forced to receive; half-mewling and growling as Gohan’s hands accordingly quickened its pumping around his highly sensitized throbbing shaft. Then everything was short-circuiting, imploding and exploding all at once--as he finally peaked, all senses overloading and erupting in blast after blast of blinding bliss, his body shook and convulsed violently as it rode out the climax until he was reduced to jerking tremors and whimpering. Gohan deliberately held out as long as he could, unceasing in his actions to prolong his mate’s orgasm until he finally reached his own threshold, anchoring onto his Namekian lover’s sculpted hips to impale himself even deeper and remain there as he emptied himself completely, thoroughly lathering his mate’s spasming inner walls to overflowing.

Piccolo was already slipping into unconsciousness moments later when Gohan disengaged from him and –being the attentive lover that he is- attended to the last of his needs; making sure his semi-engorged male organ was sucked to completion as well, after which, he used that accursedly skilled mouth and tongue of his to nurse his female part until it was calmed and clean. He must’ve dozed off a few minutes because he awoke to Gohan’s gentle and somewhat apologetic kisses, already partially dressed.

“I’m so sorry, Piccolo-san.”

Piccolo grunted as he struggled to open his eyes.

“I know it’s my fault you’re tired, and I should let you sleep but… you’ll be late for your afternoon class if I don’t wake you now.”

Sheepishly, Gohan kissed him on the mouth again, this time orally transferring a senzu bean. Piccolo grudgingly chewed on it, a reprimanding look on his face. Gohan ducked his head, lowering himself to meekly meet his love’s glower from underneath long lashes. It was almost black magic how the eighteen-year-old could look like five years old all over again when he was trying to wheedle out of a situation.

“There’s an abundance of senzu since there hasn’t been a threat in a while, so I kind of bribed Karin to give me some.” Gohan held up a pouch, tittering coyly as he scooped up a few and dropped it into his Namek’s breast pocket. “You’ll need your strength for tonight.”

Piccolo bared his teeth. “And you told him it was for sex??”

“No! Err, of course not!” Gohan forced a hollow laugh. “I told him we needed it for… err, ‘training’.

Piccolo’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“It’s not exactly a lie!”

The Namek only growled as he beamed back the rest of his clothes, adjusting his muffler to hide the fresh bite marks and hickeys on his neck.

“Why don’t you heal them right away?” Gohan asked innocently.

“Because I don’t want to,” Piccolo replied simply, still with a scowl, but there was a secret smile there. Gohan released his Super Saiyajin form; his rumpled suit and askew hair were mended with a flick of his lover’s wrist.

The half-breed then hugged Piccolo’s neck and kissed his cheek, “Thank you! I love you, Piccolo-san!” Then added in a sensual tone, “I promise, I’ll let you take charge later, for a change.”

“How much sex do you need until you’re sated??”

“This is normal, remember? According to Vegeta-san, you’re actually doing the entire planet a favour, you know? Keeping me from blowing it up by absorbing all my excess energy and whatnot.”

“I don’t remember him saying anything like that.”

The next instant, they were back in school inside Piccolo’s cubicle office. Gohan pulled him aside to a private corner to bend down and lean against Piccolo’s flat stomach, giving it an affectionate rub, to which the Namek was unprepared for. Then Gohan flashed him a grin, “Are you—”

"I don't know…!" Piccolo hissed. Then muttered, "No… not yet." His cheeks bursting into purple bonfires.

“I want a boy this time, okay?” Before Piccolo could retort, Gohan arrested his lips one last time, mumbling a somewhat forlorn, ‘later’ before he finally exited.

The Earth-born Namek sighed again.

He stared at all his unfinished paperwork as the end of lunch bell rang out. After several carefully timed breaths, he managed to channel enough healing just to ease his aching core and quaking thighs before heading to his respective class.

Of course, it was never enough. His whole body was still wildly thrumming with sexual energy, heavily intoxicated in the afterglow and tingling with tiny electric shocks.

If he were to be honest with himself…

…He couldn’t wait for school that day to be over.

End. (Not.)



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